


When We're Older

by endemictoearth



Category: My Mad Fat Diary
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-17
Updated: 2014-04-17
Packaged: 2018-04-08 10:11:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,047
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4300785
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/endemictoearth/pseuds/endemictoearth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written from an anonymous prompt: "I've noticed that you don't write any Future fics so I was wondering how you picture Rae's university and adult life to be like?" This is a short fic that imagines Rae and Finn, and the gang, in the future.</p>
            </blockquote>





	When We're Older

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so I’M NOT SURE WHAT THIS IS. I never realized I hadn’t ever written a future fic, but I sure as heck hadn’t! This sort-of-prompt got me thinking, so here’s this sort-of-fic? It’s mega-disjointed, but I’m not entirely unhappy with it, so …

When you try to snuff yourself out … twice … before you even get to college, well … you learn. If you survive yourself, you learn to deal with just how temporary everything is. How little control you have over things. How to let yourself savor the things you enjoy and endure the things you don’t. We all learn these things, but when you remember that you almost didn’t have a chance to have experiences or memories, they tend to stick.

Rae never thought she’d have a boyfriend, until she did. She never thought she’d get married, until she was. She’d lived her life not expecting much and, as a result, she ended up being surprised and delighted pretty often. 

Coping mechanisms from therapy really helped her deal with the sad stuff, like when Mrs. Dewhurst passed away, or when Finn’s dad got sick with cancer and they sat with him through treatments every two weeks for a year and a half, or even when Archie moved to bloody Boston to teach at Harvard. She learned that the good stuff wasn’t any less good because there was bad stuff. She used to let the bad stuff overshadow everything, thought it was more important, but now she knew that stuff was just stuff, and it’s up to us to determine how important it is. 

Chop and Izzy married. Too young, really. They were separated within the year and Izzy was back with her mum and dad. They were both too proud to admit either of them had caused the break-up, so Rae and Finn had to get them to sit down and talk about things. Izzy shoved the divorce papers across the pub table, yelling, “Why won’t ya just sign ‘em?” Chop screaming back, “‘Cause I fuckin’ love ya, Izzy! I always will!” And when he set his jaw and turned away to keep her from seeing the tears in his eyes, Izzy grabbed his face to kiss him. “Why didn’t ya say that six months ago, ya daft bugger?” Together ever since.

Rae had tried to break up with Finn when she went to uni. Said, “We don’t know what will happen; you could meet someone else. I don’t want to get in your way.” Finn looked down to mumble, “More likely you’ll meet someone else.” Rae scoffed at the notion. “Well, you’d better not, ‘cause I kind of like you being in my way; showin’ me the way.” Rae shoved his shoulder with hers, but then got serious again. “If you do, though—“ Finn shut her up a little bit with a long and lingering kiss. “I won’t. Don’t need to look for anyone else. I’ve already got the best girl in the world.”

Chloe did two years at uni, met a bloke, and dropped out to get married. Someone should have told her it wasn’t lather, rinse and repeat with marriage, because she met another bloke, got divorced from the first, married the next, and was onto her third marriage by the time she was 35. Two lovely kids to show for her troubles, though. Girl and a boy, two different dads (Husband #1 for the girl; husband #3 for the boy.) And, through it all, Rae was still her best friend.

Finn started out on the lowest rung at a recording studio in Peterborough, fetching coffee and humping boxes of demo tapes. After persistently hanging around, volunteering for overtime and bringing in new business, he transferred to the London studio. “Big time,” Rae said quietly over the phone from the apartment she shared with two other girls in Hull. “My offer still stands, y’know. If you meet someone … more excitin’—“ Finn sighed. “Will ya stop tryin’ to break up wi’ me every other minute?”

With Finn in London, Rae had a destination when she graduated. She must have applied to every paper and magazine from Epping to Wimbledon, passing up several much better salaries to work for a little music magazine that let her write about her favorite bands and review concerts. 

Since she only made a pittance, they didn’t even have to discuss her moving in with Finn. They just did it, because it made sense. Because  _they_  made sense, even after years, even after Rae tried to “set him free” on no fewer than three occasions, and then … even after Finn got down on one knee that windy Spring day on Hampstead Heath and Rae said no because she was too embarrassed. When he asked her again as they lay in bed listening to the rain that the wind brought, she whispered yes.

Their wedding was small and simple. Rae didn’t buy a white dress, though Linda tried to convince her she’d regret it if she didn’t, but Rae knew she’d regret it if she did. Linda gave in, faster than she ever did when both they lived under that roof that Linda paid for, but insisted on wearing a ridiculous hat from Debenhams. Rae’s little sister Jasmine was their flower girl; they didn’t have bridesmaids or groomsmen. Not because they didn’t have the friends for it, but because they didn’t need anyone else up there with them. The two of them were enough.

They’d always meant to talk about having kids. Rae was fairly ambivalent, and while Finn thought he’d like to, they were both always busy with their jobs and lives and they weren’t sure where a kid would have fitted in. Plus, between Chop and Izzy’s three, Chloe’s two, and Jasmine … they felt connected to a lot of children. And one day it just seemed like they’d left it too late. 

Finn asked Rae, on another rainy night in bed, decades after asking her to marry him, “Do you wish we had? Do you regret it?” She was quiet a long time before she answered, almost long enough that Finn had begun to think that the silence was her answer. Finally, she said, “No. I like our lives. I love you. It’s not that we couldn’t have made room for a child, but … we didn’t need one, either.” Finn sighed with relief; Rae always found a way to say the things he couldn’t find the words for. They’d been enough for each other for a long time. It seemed they always would.


End file.
